Of Gods and Men
by Calim1
Summary: WHN Where No Man has Gone Before.  After the smoke clears, a quick interlude between Kirk and Spock.  Written for the first All Star Treks Fan Fiction contest.


_I have been a Trekker since the early 1970's and followed it through all its incarnations. When people ask me what my favorite of the 5 series was I say Deep Space 9 which usually gets a gasp or two. I then must explain that I never include the Original Series in my thinking since that is on a pedestal so high it has become untouchable. Kirk & Company will always be my all time favorites yet I also fell in love with Picard, Sisko and Archer. Voyager . . . left a lot to be desired but it is a part of Trek history and must be cherished in its own right. And now with JJ Abrams' version, I've fallen in love again. It is so nice to know that Trek will continue long into the future, if not with film or TV, then with fan fiction for it is us, the fans, who keep it alive._

_This is the first Trek piece I've written in a long time and I hope you enjoy it. It was written for the first All Star Treks Fan Fiction contest, a new Trek wiki over at Wetpaint. The site is just starting out and would enjoy any help offered._

_Onward ~_

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><p><strong>ST - Of Gods and Men<strong>

by Susan Dietz (Calim11)  
>Rating and Reader Alerts: PG<br>Category: Original Series - Kirk / Spock

Summary: WHN - Where No Man Has Gone Before. For the first All StarTreks Fan Fiction Contest.

_© November 2011_

_Feedback is appreciated_

_Disclaimer: The characters and general situations in this story are the property of CBS and Paramount Studios, however I reserve the rights to the specific details. It is not my intention to infringe upon their rights; this story is purely for the enjoyment of fans. Please do not redistribute in any form._

_**STSTST**  
><em>

_He was a god, such as men might be, if men were gods.  
>Maxwell Anderson<em>

Distantly, James Kirk heard the buzz of someone asking for entry but couldn't seem to pry his eyes from the memories that kept him rooted in place. Each glimpse, each moment filled him with joy then sadness knowing he'd never experience anything again with his good friend, Gary Mitchell. Rubbing his forehead he plunked heavily upon his bunk, arguing with himself on whether or not there was another choice to be made, a better choice than killing his best friend.

There had to be a better choice or it was all worthless.

The door buzzed again and his eyes drifted upward. He knew who it was. He knew the message that was about to be conveyed. He also knew not hearing it wouldn't make it disappear.

"Come," he finally said in a listless voice, not bothering to stand as Spock hesitantly stepped through the sliding doors. Not looking at his first officer, Kirk glanced down to his bandaged hand lying limply in his lap.

"It is done," Spock stated watching as Kirk gave him a slight nod.

"All of it?" came the question.

"Yes."

Spock wanted to say more, wanted to report the exact steps taken to eradicate Commander Gary Mitchell. How they'd saturated that particular section of Delta Vega with neutron radiation then exploded the lithium cracking station that sent shockwaves through the planet itself. He'd paid particular attention to the valley where Kirk had left Mitchell entombed, scanning the area, seeing there was nothing left but a crater. So, yes, all of it had been done but he found himself unable to put any of that into words, speaking them out loud, leaving them in the air about his captain who asked him to act like he had a heart just a day ago when things started going wrong.

He should go but leaving seemed inappropriate. It was his duty as First Officer to provide support, to lend a helping hand so to speak. But how? His ability to handle human emotions was lacking at best, evidenced by all that had occurred just hours before. But a report needed to be made and all he had at his fingertips were cold hard facts. He'd fall back on what he knew.

"The remains of the nine crewmen, including Lt. Kelso and Dr. Dehner, have been interred in Sickbay. Dr. Piper is making the proper arrangements for their dispersal once we reach the nearest Starbase. All repairs are continuing in a timely fashion and, despite Mr. Scott's grumbling, we should be functioning at 98.765% within the next eight hours."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock," Kirk quietly responded.

Spock pursed his lips and took a half step back then stopped. He knew he should leave now but there was something else keeping him here. This wasn't like him. He knew every minute of every day what he would do in any situation and sail through each catastrophe without question. But what he was contemplating was uncharted territory and he found, to his astonishment, he was a trifle bit nervous. Aghast, he swallowed hard, tempering the feeling as best he could, stood a bit straighter and decided to follow through with his unorthodox idea.

"You should've let me go after him, Captain," he voiced waiting for an outburst. None came. "As your second, it was my place to confront Commander Mitchell and take care of the situation. The commanding officer should not put himself in harm's way if at all possible."

"He was my responsibility."

"As his Captain."

"As his _friend_," Kirk stated finally looking up, his eyes hard and unwavering slipping into sadness an instant later. "And . . . as his Captain," he admitted.

"But his friend first," Spock conceded to which Kirk sighed. "It wasn't your fault, Captain. It was . . . circumstance. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"It doesn't make him any more alive does it?" Kirk asked not really wanting an answer. "He's been my friend for 15 years. We've served together for the last six; I knew him better than anyone else. And now he's gone by my hand. I raised a rock over his head and asked for forgiveness but it didn't stop me from trying to kill him."

"He was acting not of his own volition."

"And that makes it so much worse," Kirk said looking up again. "I entombed my best friend on a distant planet in a grave he dug for _me_ then had the place blown up just to insure that he was dead. Really dead. We couldn't have him getting out and playing God with someone else."

"Of course not, Captain. He was dangerous."

"I know."

"He would've killed all of us, more if he'd gotten loose."

"I know."

"Then I don't see the problem."

"He was my _friend_, Spock!" he exclaimed, shaking hands grabbing at the sides of the bunk. "I _killed_ my friend. It doesn't matter that he wasn't himself or that he was possessed by some unknown malady. He was still in there. You saw that. Gary was still inside what he'd become and I couldn't reach him."

"There was nothing you could do," Spock reasoned.

"I know that. God, I know that but it doesn't hurt any less. In fact it makes it worse because there should've been something I could've done."

"There was nothing you could do. We explored every avenue, much as the Captain of the VALIANT and found nothing that would help."

"And that makes it worse."

Spock frowned. "But, why?"

Kirk looked at his first officer, wanting him to understand, knowing he never would. But he'd try anyway. "Because I'm the Captain, Spock. I'm the one with all the answers. The one who always gets us out of a jam, who saves the day, time after time. I should've been able to find the answer. There should've been . . . I should've had an answer that was better than annihilation." He looked away. "There had to be another way."

"But there wasn't, Captain," Spock said not understanding why he didn't believe that.

Kirk nodded then finally stood, looking over his quarters. "And that's the hardest part. Knowing there wasn't anything anyone could do, anything _I_ could do." Grasping the back of the chair that sat neatly against his desk, he cast a glance up at the painting on the wall. "Dr. Dehner told me I didn't know what it was like to almost be a God and yet I played God when I killed Gary. And that's all I'll carry with me from now until the end. I'll always wonder what else I could've done." He looked toward Spock then. "And I know you'll never understand that but it's something that'll live with me forever."

A slight smile creased his mouth and he pulled out the chair and sat down, leaning elbows on the desk. "'Command and compassion is a fool's mixture.' Gary said that to me. I don't believe that's true but I understand the concept for with too much compassion I'll never forget all of those who will perish under my command and I'm not so arrogant to think it'll never happen again. And while never forgetting what you've lost can help you grow and learn, it's a heavy burden. I envy that sometimes, Spock, you're ability to not let things weigh you down. It'll make for a happier life."

"Envy me not, Captain," Spock responded catching Kirk's eye as he turned toward him. "Some humans have the ability to take what has befallen them and use it to improve their outlook on life, use it to make difficult decisions all the while understanding what the outcome may be. I, on the other hand, look at things logically not emotionally and cannot always understand that everything is not 'cut and dried' as Mr. Scott is fond of saying. It is a challenge to encapsulate the result with the steps taken to get there especially when lives are lost. And while I don't understand emotion I can acknowledge their ability to weave together aspects of a situation into something that can be acceptable to those around them. It seems a rather grueling way to live one's life without logic. Perhaps, someday, I'll grasp the concept."

"Willing to try is that it?"

"I'm constantly learning, Captain. To not learn is to stagnate."

"Very true."

Spock watched his captain lean his chin on clasped hands and decided there was something else to say. "Gary Mitchell was a good officer, an asset to this ship and your crew, and he will be missed. As for the rest, the more personal aspects of him, I can only tell you that I will attempt to support you in his place as much as I am able."

A quick look of surprise captured Kirk's face then was gone, replaced with a soft smile. "Thank you, Mr. Spock. That means a great deal."

How very odd that that statement filled him with pleasure that he'd somehow managed to make his captain feel better. It was a step, a step closer to understanding this man in the center seat, this man who felt so deeply about everything. Perhaps . . . perhaps he could learn a thing or two from him over time.

"The memorial service is at 1430 hours on the Observation deck."

"I'll be there," Kirk responded watching his first officer tilt his head a moment then turn to leave. "You're a good officer yourself, Mr. Spock, and I greatly appreciate that you are a member of my crew." Kirk grinned at the stunned look thrown his way.

"Thank you, sir. Until 1430."

"Of course."

With that Spock was gone and Kirk was alone, wondering about his half-Vulcan crewmate. There were human emotions swirling around inside and, no doubt, would be glimpsed a time or two before their journey was done. It would be a fascinating ride to behold such an evolution.

But until that time he would need to deal with putting into words his friendship with a man he'd spent so much time with over the years - in battle, in exploration, in countless bars back on Earth. There was so much to choose from, so many stories that spoke of the man he was, not the one he became, not the mutation of what was once an ethical and moral man. He rubbed his forehead and sighed spying the Saurian Brandy bottle on the shelf.

Quickly pouring himself a shot, he starred into the glass and smiled. 'The only thing a man can leave behind when he departs this Earth are memories in others so he will never be forgotten'. It had been so long ago Mitchell said those words as they'd hunkering down behind a derelict ship, one working phaser between them and no hope in sight. They'd been lucky that day, one day among so many, only to have it all end on a backwater planet in the most horrible way.

His smile left him then as current visions of a hostile, fearsome God-like being stood over him with every intention of killing him and he slammed his drink down on the desk. No. He would not remember that. He would remember the man who loved life; who cherished the joys of ladventure and true friendship. Those memories would be more enduring than these last few days. He would make them last for as long as he could.

Raising his glass, he forced a grin. "To those moments shared, I will keep them close, keep them dancing in my head for as long as I can so that even though you may be gone you will never be forgotten."

Downing his drink, he slowly stood, eyes passing over the chronometer. It was time. Straightening his shirt, he made his way slowly to the door, lifted his chin and headed out. One more memory was about to be made and remembered for always.

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><p><em>Well, there you go. I hope you enjoyed this short piece. Now get on over to All Star Treks and take a peek. It's really run to be in on the beginning of site. Thanks for reading and reviewing. :-D<em>


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